I had been perched on the back-rest of my favourite bench, at the top of the main trail leading to the central cruising area; it was the crossroads of my gay world, commanding a view of four of the five trails that led to Sodom and Gomorrah.
The moment I saw him coming from the parking area, I knew he was quite young; I'd cruised the park long enough that I was able to spot a cute guy from surprisingly great distances. The closer this baby got, the more my mouth watered. A hockey cap, worn backwards, indicated he was a Boston Bruins fan.
A surreptitious glance caused me to worry that he might be too young. Carefully watching the hand in his pocket, I caught his brief signal, a slight rubbing movement in the crotch area; there was no eye contact. None was necessary in the cruising park.
He had let his dark, blond hair grow into a point on the nape of his neck. I'm a real freak for that and was so turned on I thought I might be tempted to ignore the age question.
Slowly, he descended the trail, towards the river He seemed uncertain as to where he was going; possibly, he was a newbie. I had never seen him before. 'Maybe he's visiting Montreal from Boston,' I pondered.
I sighed in relief when he turned into one of the narrow trails that led to the main sex-hunting area.
A cute, young guy would cause a no-holds-barred frenzy amongst the chicken-hawks and my target would, undoubtedly, be snared, in a heart-beat. And, though I doubted anyone else was hunting, yet, it being so early, but I couldn't be sure. I quickly jumped on my bike and started after Prince Charming.
I had been hunting in the park for several years and was thoroughly familiar with the maze of trails. I used a short-cut that allowed me to head him off.
Stomach churning, I Impatiently waited at the intersection, keeping well out of sight so I could clock him more closely to try to determine whether he was old enough. As well, I'd get another opportunity to enjoy the pointed hair; how I loved that, I-don't-give-a-damn-attitude, hair style.
A sunk feeling overwhelmed me when I saw another guy approaching from the opposite direction. My worst fear was that my prince might encounter someone else, and it was materializing. The approacher, a middle-aged man, walked at a quick pace that usually indicated one who had already been satisfied and was leaving; fortunately, that was the case. Seeing him, though, had been a major jolt, considering I had been so certain I was the only hunter there.
Now, to avoid the possibility of any other unwanted encounters, I'd have to modify my mode of operation. I'd have to employ my boldest approach, the, Do-or-Die shocker, that would either work immediately, or fail ruinously.
Permitting my prey get a short way, down the trail, I slowly pedaled past , saying, loudly enough that he'd surely hear me, "Oh, Baby, would I ever love to suck your cock." It worked most of the time.
I kept going until I got to a very narrow and rock-filled trail which I'd used many times. It being especially difficult to manage, privacy was almost guaranteed. I proceeded slowly enough that he wouldn't lose sight of me, knowing that If he followed me along this positively horrid trail he'd become entangled in my web.
The wait seemed interminable. I could already taste his, fresh, young cock. "Where the fuck can he be?" I asked myself. "He should have been here, by now." Then, I worried that perhaps he hadn't understood what I'd said; many of the guys cruising here spoke French and couldn't understand a word of English. Unfortunately, it would've been impossible to deliver my message in two languages within so short a time.
"Damn," I said to myself, aloud, 'My chance would have been so much better had I spoken in French."
Pretending to be pissing, I finally heard him when he softly cursed a rock over which he'd stumbled. I turned slowly, my cock, still in my hand to, at last, adore him face to face.
"Hi," he said, his voice shaking, "Did you mean...ah, what I think you meant?" He asked, shyly.
"Trust me," I replied, enthusiastically, "I wanna suck you till you scream for mercy."
His T-shirt had already been removed and was tucked it into the waistband of his shorts; his slightly hairy chest was much better defined than I'd imagined. 'He really should wear a tighter T-shirt,' I thought.
Now, up close, I was certain he was too young. His baby face, with big blue eyes, was, arguably, lick provoking; how strong could I be in the face of such temptation? I just had to have his baby cock in my mouth.
